Ice and Fire
by CeliaEquus
Summary: Johnny and Phil's marriage was already on the rocks when Loki happened. Now Johnny finds that Phil is still alive; but can they regain what they lost? Will Phil get a second chance? Spoilers for 'Agents of SHIELD'. Disclaimer: I don't own anything related to Marvel, 'Fantastic Four', or 'Agents of SHIELD', nor am I making money from this.
1. Never Have I

**Warning: spoilers for 'Agents of SHIELD', episode 'Girl in the Flower Dress', from chapter two onwards. So if you haven't seen that, you'd better not read this yet. Oh, and this story is mainly about Phil and Johnny's relationship, its breakdown, and trying to put it back together. Lots of discussion, angst, fluff, and anything else would be giving away the ending. Maybe. So that's all I can say.**

"Never Have I"

"Never have I…" Skye smirked. "All right, I'll go easy on you." It was generous of her, considering that they were all at least four shots in. "Never have I ever had sex with a bona fide superhero."

Phil was the only one who took a drink. Only Agent May didn't stare at him. Everyone else's jaws dropped, and they actually looked impressed.

"W-who was she?" Ward asked. "It wasn't… Romanov, was it?"

Phil gifted him with a withering look. "Not a 'she', Agent Ward."

"Holy shit," Skye said, eyes ready to drop out of her head.

_J&P_

_Johnny turned away, and stomped over to the bag he had packed._

"_I can't do this anymore, Phil," he said._

"_You're just being a child, Johnny!"_

"_Yeah, well, children don't like being abandoned," Johnny said, and he hiked the bag onto his shoulder. There was a definitely lump in Phil's throat, but like hell was he not going to stick to his guns._

"_I'm back now," he said. "It was just a problem at work—"_

"_And you'll be gone again in five minutes! Nick Fury snaps his fingers and you come running. You know, the only time you've put work before our relationship was when… actually, you know what? It's just dumb luck that my proposal wasn't interrupted by your work, and even luckier that our wedding wasn't postponed because of some stupid mission!"_

"_Someone has to do this job, Johnny," Phil said, trying to be the reasonable one here. "I know you believe that. How many times have you put your life on the line to rescue someone? You know, between the times you put your life on the line with _extreme sports_. At least my hobbies aren't hazardous to my own health."_

"_What hobbies?" Johnny said, waving his arms. He dropped his bag, and moved closer to Phil. "I least I've taken up music. You don't do _anything_ that isn't work. Not even… not even me. When was the last time we made love?"_

_Every time Johnny said 'love', it made something soar inside Phil. Even if it wasn't being directed at him, or in relation to him at all, just hearing that word fall from Johnny's lips was enough to make him weak. It had nearly stopped him from going to SHIELD several times._

"_Look, I could arrange some time for us together," he suggested. That just seemed to make it worse, considering the way Johnny blanched._

"_That so?" he said. "I could just be another slot on your schedule? Should I come into your office and have sex with you there, so that I don't waste precious time meeting you somewhere, or waiting for you to come home? So we have maximum time to fuck? Because that's all it is anymore. Something quick when you get home, or a bit longer if you're home for an anniversary or birthday. _If_. We don't do anything special for Christmas. It's too much of a hassle to be spontaneous. I never thought we'd be one of those couples where marriage would just ruin everything." He scooped up his bag again and headed for the front door of their flat in Portland. Phil followed him, and caught hold of his arm._

"_Johnny, don't do this," he whispered. "I'm sorry. But you know how things have been since we came up with the Avengers Initiative—"_

"_And you don't even let me in on it," Johnny said softly. "I… I know you want to separate home and work life; I get that, and I agree with it. It would be great if you knew how to make them a bit more even."_

"_I could spend more time at home—"_

"_Can you guarantee that?" Johnny asked, turning just his head to meet Phil's gaze. "I don't care about being in some new superhero group; I'm already part of one, and they're my family."_

"_I'm your family as well, Johnny."_

"_Are you?" Phil swallowed, trying to dislodge that lump. "Maybe on paper. Maybe in the few photos from the ceremony. But emotionally? You're just _dead_, Phil. You don't care about me like you used to. I think you agreed to marry me because you loved the idea of us being tied together permanently. And honestly? I didn't notice that the first couple of years. Then Sue and Reed had Franklin, and things slowed down. Now we've got Iron Man flying around, saving the day. And you're trying to net the Hulk. The agents you handle are taking up most of your time."_

"_Someone else could handle them—"_

"_Now you've come back from New Mexico. What's next, huh? Some weirdo trying to take over the world? Something to do with the hammer you found? Whatever it is, you're going to put it ahead of me."_

"_Johnny, if the world is at stake—"_

"I'm_ supposed to be your world!" Johnny whirled around, the scowl on his face so poisonous that Phil took a step back, startled. "That was what you said the night of our honeymoon. You leaned over me after we'd made love – one of the last times we really made love – and you said that I was your world. Where did that go, Phil? God, I'd prefer it if you were having an affair! At least it would show that you weren't just the robot everyone else says you are. I know— I thought I knew differently. I really thought… But work is your mistress. Or are you really a bigamist? Before I came along, everyone said you were married to your work. I should've known better than to propose when you weren't even single." He laughed manically. "Yeah. I was real stupid, wasn't I?"_

"_Johnny, no," Phil said, and he grabbed his husband's arm. "Please stop."_

"_We were so in love that we married before it was technically legal," Johnny said. He shook his head. "Let go of me, Phil."_

"_Please! I'll take time off work, okay? I have plenty of sick leave just sitting there for a rainy day. We can go away somewhere, like a second honeymoon. I'll turn my phone off, and we could sit on a beach all day. Or go skiing in the mountains. Anywhere. We'll do whatever you want to do, Johnny. Just… please don't leave. I love you. God, every time I see you get on your bike to go and perform dangerous stunts, or every time you do something else equally risky, my heart's in my mouth. I'm always scared that I'm going to get a call saying that you've been injured, or k-killed." His voice broke, and he held Johnny from behind. His heart was beating too fast, too hard. It was going to break right through his ribcage. "Because I love you. And I let you do it because it makes you happy, even though I swear my hair loss has been sped up by this. I let you flirt with women because that's just what you do, and I've accepted that. It hurts, but I trust you not to leave me, even though you could do so much better. But I do all of this because I love you."_

_Johnny's swallow was audible. "I love you, too. Do you mean it, Phil? We can go away, and you'll have your phone off?"_

"_I'll even leave it at home. Hell, we could go without a word to anyone, though that would be monumentally stupid. We'd at least need to tell your sister. But no one would blame us for wanting to get away from it all. I have months of sick leave and vacation days."_

"_Because you spend so much time at work," Johnny said, a bite to the words. But he didn't pull away, which Phil counted as a victory. "I guess I can unpack. This was only for a few nights. If we're going away for a couple of months I'll need a bigger case."_

_Phil turned him around, nearly sagging with relief. He tugged Johnny into a kiss. It felt like weeks since they'd really kissed, and he wondered how long it had been. He got so busy…_

_Then his phone rang. Johnny stiffened, and pulled back from the kiss._

"_Are you going to answer it?" he asked. Phil's hand had automatically gone for it. He wrenched his hand away from his pocket._

"_Of course not," he said. "Let's get… let's get pack…"_

_But it was taunting him with its ring. Johnny's eyebrows drew together._

"_Yes," he said. "Let's get packing. Come on, Phil."_

_He was a fool. "Let me just find out what's going on." Johnny pulled back out of reach. "No, really, Johnny. I can tell Fury who to put onto the job, or maybe just advise from wherever we… wait, don't… Johnny, please!"_

"_I'm leaving," Johnny said, and he made for the front door. Phil's mobile kept ringing. "This is over, Coulson." He opened the door, and Phil couldn't move. He felt dizzy, like he'd been drugged. Everything was moving slowly, and his limbs refused to obey his brain. "I was an idiot to think I could fall in love with you, and that it'd be requited."_

"_Jo—"_

"_Your boss wants you," Johnny said. He fiddled with something, and then placed it on the hall table. He looked back at Phil one last time. "I'll return for the rest of my clothes, the cello, and other stuff. I guess you won't be here. It's best. I… I don't _ever_ want to see you again."_

_Then he turned, and walked out of Phil's life forever. The ring seemed louder in the apartment, and Phil finally scooped it out. Everything was back to normal speed, and he pressed the answer button even as he was running to the door and wrenching it open._

"_Coulson," he said absently, looking left and right. No sign of Johnny._

"_They found Captain America," Fury said. Phil didn't register the words at first. When they hit him, he staggered back against the door._

"_What?"_

"_Steve Rogers' plane was found in the ice, and so was his body. He's alive, and a team's working on defrosting him now. Until that's done, we won't know how he is. But apparently it looks good. A security detail will need to be established. They may have to cut him out of the uniform…"_

_Fury was still talking, but Phil was only half taking it in. He'd turned around, and his eyes had zeroed in on the thing Johnny had left on the table._

_His wedding ring._

_J&P_

"C'mon, who was it?" Skye said, leaning forward across the table. "You can tell us, AC."

Phil knew that Agent May knew, and that she could keep her mouth shut. But there was no need to let anyone else know his problems. His own wedding ring was on a chain around his neck, and he never let anyone see it. After all, he was technically still married to Johnny; his heart never strayed, so his body wouldn't either.

"That's classified," he said. He let them whine for half a minute before he decided to start playing dirty.

Knowing your subordinates' personal histories was useful in drinking games.

* * *

**Oops. Making Phil the villain in a relationship with Johnny. Again. Don't worry! I have had an idea for a high school AU where the tables are turned. But I won't give anything else away. I just hope I get around to writing it. Not so good at AUs.**

**Meanwhile, what do you think of this so far? And why do I sometimes feel like I'm the only one shipping these two? Someone please join in! I want to read something with them where I **_**don't**_** know what's going to happen.**

**Note: IS ANYONE IN BRISBANE, AUST, PLANNING TO SEE 'THOR 2'? I only ask because I haven't heard from my friends, and Mum hasn't seen any of the films, so I can't justify dragging her along.**


	2. A Captive

"A Captive"

Phil and May passed room after room in the Centipede facility, and checked the window of each one to make sure that there were no other prisoners of science. It was when May reached one door that she paused, and turned to Phil.

"You might want to see this," she said.

"Is it Chan?"

"Worse."

Every villain's name started to speed through Phil's head as he crossed the short distance to peer through the glass—

Then, with a crash, he'd kicked down the door. May rolled her eyes, and Phil gestured her in ahead of him, before checking to see if the coast was clear. It was hardly the quietest of entries, but they only had a short amount of time, and only a limited number of resources. They hadn't been using heat-seeking devices to find Chan, which was just as well, since this… discovery would have compromised the results.

"Ow!" He saw May pull her hand back and shake it. She frowned. "I touched him, and the heat cranked up." She used her elbow to nudge him, and yet again pulled back. Phil remembered that the last time he'd seen Johnny, he hadn't been able to move. It was like that all over again.

"I ain't no amateur, lady," Johnny mumbled. "Kill me if you want. Don't care. You're not gettin' anything from me."

"He thinks we're the bad guys," May said. "Look. He's covered with some kind of… I don't know. Force-field." She grimaced. "Maybe magic. It's over his eyes, his ears… He can feel, but he can't see or hear. Storm!" She bent close to his ear. "Storm, can you hear me?" Nothing. "We'll have to leave him while we find—"

"No!" Phil said sharply. "We're not leaving him. You guard the door. He might just need a familiar touch."

"Will he remember you?" she asked bluntly.

Phil didn't reply. He just knelt by Johnny's side. He remembered everything, even if Johnny didn't. He remembered how he'd touched Johnny their wedding night. It was the happiest night of Phil's life; but would Johnny had retained the memory, or discarded it as worthless after Phil's death, just as he'd discarded everything else about them?

"Please," Phil said. He rested his right hand on the left side of Johnny's waist, and cupped Johnny's right cheek with his other hand. He cradled him gently, and started by kissing Johnny's brow, then his cheeks, his nose, and finally his lips. He dipped his tongue in when they parted, and could have danced in victory when Johnny responded, arching into his touch. He was warm, but no warmer than usual. Phil stroked his thumbs where his hands still rested, the material of the suit soft, and Johnny's cheek a bit stubbly. How long had he been here? And why was he here? Was it because of Chan?

Phil broke the kiss to catch his breath, and noticed a tear fall down his husband's cheek. He felt answering moisture pricking the corners of his eyes, and he rested his forehead against Johnny's.

"_Phil_," Johnny whispered desperately. "Phil. My Phil. You're here. With me. Oh God, I missed you. Say something."

"I'm here, Johnny."

"Say something, goddamnit!"

"I told you he can't hear," May said. "He can't even move his hands. His legs are moving—"

"I know!" Phil said, barely avoiding being kicked as Johnny tried to get his legs under him. He picked up Johnny's hands and kissed them both in apology, wishing he knew how to fix…

Johnny's fingers twitched, and then captured the lapels of Phil's jacket.

"Is it you?" he said. "I can't hear…"

An idea came to Phil. He bent over and kissed each of Johnny's ears.

"Can you hear me now?" he asked. Johnny's face lit up, even as his eyes stayed fused shut.

"Yes," he said. "Christ, Phil. I wish I could see you."

"Then hold still." Phil kissed both eyelids, and was rewarded with Johnny's gaze finally settling on him. "Hi there."

Johnny looked like he wanted to cry, and clumsily threw himself into Phil's arms. They hugged, kissing furiously, and soon they were pressed chest to chest. It wasn't until May cleared her throat that they could break apart.

"You follow us," Phil said, and he helped Johnny stand. "Careful. We just have to take care of something, and then we can get out of here."

"You'll just leave me again," Johnny said, and he pulled Phil close.

"Technically, you left me," Phil said, but he accepted Johnny's embrace.

"You left first, and the most often," Johnny said. He buried his face in Phil's neck.

"I know, and I'm sorry," Phil said. "It won't happen again. But we kind of need to finish this before we get out of here. I'm not leaving you here, so you'll have to trail along, and keep out of the way when I tell you."

"What are you talking about? It's not like you can ever leave me again. Not here."

May jerked her head, and Phil nodded, setting Johnny's strange words aside for the time being.

"Of course not," he said. He pulled back, but he kept clutching Johnny's hand. "I won't let go of you until it's necessary, and then I'll hold onto you again. Stay out of trouble; that's all I ask. We'll do this quickly, and get out. We can talk then."

"Do you know what was holding you in there, Johnny?" May asked as they continued along corridors, following the directions to the lab where Chan was being held.

"Something weird. I could move my legs, but there was no point trying to escape when I couldn't open doors, or see or hear anything."

"It took Phil kissing you to nullify the effects," May said. "How interesting." Phil could sense the heat in his cheeks, and he avoided her pointed look. Johnny huffed a small laugh.

"He always had magical lips," he said, and he winked at Phil.

"We're nearly there," Phil said, still flushing, and he motioned for quiet. Fortunately, Johnny seemed to realise that this was important, and shut up.

Well, almost.

"I'm glad I'm finally dead, so we can be together," he murmured. But Phil didn't have time to react to that; there was work to do.

* * *

**Things are taking fewer words to write than I anticipated. I suppose not all stories can be as long as 'The Agent and the Human Torch'. Ah well.**

**And I absolutely did not spend half of this episode saying that they should have got Johnny Storm, aka THE HUMAN TORCH, in as a consultant. *Looks shifty-eyed***

**(And it has nothing to do with the fact that I ship Phil and Johnny…)**

**I have a thing for true love's kiss breaking a spell. That's all this was.**


	3. Scorching Hot

"Scorching Hot"

When they reached the lab, Phil darted to one side of the metal cages, and May stayed on the other. She held Johnny back behind her, and the two SHIELD agents peered around in time to see Chan burn their Hong Kong man. Johnny gasped loudly. Phil approached Chan, trying to talk him down and all the while aware that his husband was back there, still weak from some kind of hoodoo or scientific anomaly. If kisses were the cure, he was leaning towards the former, and made a note to speak with a specialist in that field.

Then Chan geared up to fire, and Phil found himself being shoved out of the way. He saw Johnny take the impact of the flames, and then return them to Chan, incinerating the young man until only ash remained.

"Teach you to threaten my husband," Johnny muttered. Then he turned an angry gaze on said husband, and Phil swallowed. "And _you_. When were you planning to tell me that you're alive? I thought… I thought I'd died, and then that man… and I could feel the heat…"

"We were trying to catch Chan alive," May said. Johnny scowled at her.

"He was a lost cause," he said. "I could tell. There was something in him. Believe me, he was beyond redemption at this stage." Then he turned back to Phil. "We _are_ alive, aren't we? You didn't actually die?"

"Can we discuss this elsewhere?" Phil said. "Now that we don't have to take him in, I guess there's nothing else we can do. They will have been alerted. Let's get out of here."

He stood up, and they left the facility in silence, taking out guards when necessary, and escaping with minimal fuss. Johnny was angry enough to fry their remains, and even flamed a few of them to death, which was particularly gruesome, but nothing Phil and May hadn't seen in the last half hour. It was the grim look on Johnny's face that worried him the most, not to mention the conversation they had to have later on.

They reached the big bus in good time, and Phil regretted what he had to do.

"I know you'll hate this," he said. "But why don't you go and have a shower? I need to talk to… one of my people, and I'm sure you won't want to sit around, twiddling your thumbs, while I do that."

Johnny looked out over the rest of the crew, and then back to Phil.

"All right," he said. "But then we talk. Because I'm still half in a dream here, and I need to wake up."

Fitz went to speak, and Phil hushed him with a look. He left Johnny in Ward's care, and sighed internally as he watched them go. Once upon a time, he would've gladly shared a shower with Johnny, even the pokey one on the bus. That made it all the more fun. But he had a difficult conversation ahead of him, maybe a couple of them, before he could give thought to what he was going to say to Johnny. Phil didn't know the full details of his cure, so there was no explaining that to his husband. Were they husbands anymore? A dead man couldn't sign divorce papers; however, Phil had – technically – died more than once. That could be considered sufficient enough to declare Johnny a widower, and free to be with whomever he liked. Or loved.

Leaning back in his chair – just for a minute, before he had to get back to work – Phil allowed his heart to break a little. Johnny had kissed him, but that was more than likely an automatic reaction. It didn't mean anything. It had been a year since New York, since Johnny had said he never wanted to see Phil again.

"Screw this," he said, and he left his office. By the time he reached everyone else on the deck, with only Agent May no longer present, Johnny and Ward were with the others, and the bus was moving. Phil shook his head when Skye went to move closer to him. She could wait. Work could wait for once.

"Is this all real?" Johnny asked. He hadn't shaved. It made him look older, although that could've been the different set to his shoulders, the darker skin around his eyes, and the more prominent cheekbones. He looked something close to the dictionary definition of 'gaunt'. Phil's heart ached.

"It is," he said. "After I died—"

"You're alive."

"…After my accident on the Helicarrier, the medics managed to revive me temporarily, an action they had to repeat several times. I was taken to a classified location and healed there, although the details haven't been disclosed to me. By rights, I should have died. If I did, and this is just a copy of me, it's a very good one."

"Is that so?" Johnny said. He looked nervous, unstable; yet he didn't back up when Phil began to walk towards him. "You expect me to believe that?"

"I expect your guess to be as good as mine. But I have a scar, just here." He traced his hand over his chest, right where Loki's sceptre had sliced through him like a knife through butter. "That's not why I believe I'm real, though. I think that I'm real because my feelings for you are _just_ the same as ever. Since the first time we met. Did I ever tell you that I fell in love with you at first sight?" Johnny shook his head, eyes wide. "I am real, Johnny. I'm really here, I'm alive, and so are you."

"It's true," Ward said, and he coughed. "I only know because I'm level seven, and was called in for this. Not many people know, and we're keeping it that way."

"Trying to," Phil said. He reached out. "Johnny…"

Then a fist met his nose, and Phil nearly fell over.

"You _asshole_!" Johnny shouted.

* * *

**Quite right indeed.**

**Please review!**


	4. Confession

"Confession"

Phil accepted a handkerchief from Simmons, and stemmed the bleeding.

"I deserved that," he admitted.

"You faked your own death!" Johnny said. Rage was pouring off him, and the area grew warmer. Phil stayed where he was, but the others backed away. "Why the fuck would you do that to me?"

"It wasn't to you," Phil said calmly. "And I didn't know I was going to survive. I really thought I was dying, and I told Nick to use my death to rally the Avengers. My… my last thoughts were of you. It was horrible. I kept trying to think of our happier times, but I kept remembering our argument, when you said you never wanted to see me again. I wanted to remember your smile," the tears in his eyes weren't from the pain in his nose, "but all I could remember was how much I'd hurt you. I was glad I was dying… Fury said it was hard to get me to stay awake when I didn't care. I just wanted you to be free of me… Johnny?"

"Don't say that," Johnny said. His face was white, and he was trembling. "Don't… don't you dare say _any_ of that."

"It's true—"

"Well, it shouldn't be! None of it!"

"Johnny—"

"Damn it, Phil, how could you do that to me? I'm your _husband_!" The others – even Ward – gasped as one. "I should've been told, Phil."

"I wanted to tell you," Phil said. He didn't feel brave enough to move forward again, so he just stayed put. He could still taste his own blood, and knew that he should probably sit down with his head back, not just continue to saturate Simmons's handkerchief. "I made… I made a deal with the director."

Johnny laughed humourlessly. "Why am I not surprised?"

"Will you listen?" Phil snapped. Johnny pointedly 'zipped up' his lips. "I said that we could tell you if you went to the funeral. The others still had to believe that I was dead, but I wanted you to know. If you were there, Fury could make contact."

"…This all hinged on me being at your funeral?"

"Yes. It seemed logical."

"Log… logical."

"Well, of course you were going to go to your husband's funeral," Simmons said. "I mean, unless something happened to you… Oh my God. Did something happen to you?"

Johnny looked away, and then back to Phil. "Those last words I said to you… They haunted me, Phil. I had _nightmares_ about them. Some nights I dreamed that I was the one in Loki's place, that I killed you. If I hadn't left, we could've been somewhere safer, away from demi-gods intent on ruining New York City. You wouldn't have been confronting them and getting stabbed through the chest."

"You don't know that," Phil said.

"But I dreamed about it. And it hurt so bad, Phil. I couldn't go to your funeral. I couldn't face what I'd done to you. I didn't even have my ring, and I couldn't find it when I went back to our place."

"I'd taken it with me," Phil said. "After I regained consciousness, Fury gave me my effects, and that was with them. I said that it hurt to keep it, and that if you didn't want it, just to get rid of it, and not to tell me."

Johnny reached down his blue suit, and fished out a necklace. On the end of it was his wedding ring.

"I asked about your ring, but he said it was with you, and I didn't want to dig up your grave just for a piece of metal," Johnny said. "I didn't want to see your… your corpse. If I had dug up your coffin and checked inside—"

"You would've known sooner," Phil said. "I believe the coffin's empty. When I die someday, I'll use it for real then. That'll save some money."

"Don't joke about this!" Johnny said.

"I'm not joking, Johnny. When the director told me you weren't at the funeral, I took that to mean that you didn't care. Since I died – technically – that meant you were free to move on in your own time."

"So were you," Johnny said.

"You were – you _are_ – the love of my life, Johnny Storm. I could never move on from you."

"Those rumours about a cellist must have just been rumours," Fitz whispered. He wasn't very good at whispering quietly, because Johnny's head turned towards him.

"What do you mean?" he asked.

"Oh, well, uh," Fitz looked nervous, as well he might, "there were rumours that Agent Coulson was in love with a cellist."

Johnny's expression was closed off. "Well, he seems to have a type," he said. "I play the cello, too."

"There's no 'too', Johnny," Phil said. "I've only ever been in love with one cello-player, and I'll love him `til I die." He turned to Skye. "You, come with me. I need to sit down, and we need to talk."

They were nearly at the top of the stairs when Johnny looked up. "Hang on. If it's just the one cell… Oh."

Phil would have rolled his eyes, only he was feeling woozy enough as it was. In the end, he had to allow Skye to help him to his desk.

And they talked. Skye gave him the SD card, and Phil studied the SHIELD-redacted document on the screen. Eventually, he returned the information to her, before fetching the small black case.

"Trust is an important thing, possibly the most important after love," Phil said, and he opened the box. "You broke our trust, Skye."

"I know, and I'm sorry," she said.

"It's bad enough, what I did to my husband," Phil said. "Even before faking my death – which, for awhile, wasn't so fake – I destroyed everything. I had a chance to repair what I didn't even know was broken, and with a few words I ruined that chance, and my husband left me, leaving his wedding ring on the hall table and a hole in my heart that was nothing compared to what Loki did to me. And you know what's worse? The fact that those words, and everything I've done since, has ensured that my husband, the man I love more than life itself, will never trust me again. I don't deserve his trust, but I would do anything to regain it. Only, you see, you have a chance to make things right with this team, even though your betrayal could have cost lives. It's a long road ahead, and it won't always be pleasant. But it's possible that they might consider you a friend again. Me? I don't get that. I blew my chance with Johnny, and I don't expect any more miracles. It would have been better if I'd died."

"No way, sir," Skye said. "It's a good thing you're alive. I don't deserve this chance; a guy lost his life because of me."

"And I lost my marriage and the single most important person in my life." Phil pulled out the bracelet, and Skye slumped, but held out her wrist. Phil slid the metal over her hand and manoeuvred the band into place. A thought occurred to him. "You know, Skye, I'd trade the world to get him back, and that scares me. I know he thought that I was putting the world before him, and it might've seemed like that. But I only did it so that there'd be a world for him to live in. And I thought you held similar ideals."

"Why don't you tell him what you just told me?"

"Well, I—" Then the phone on his desk rang. It was the internal line. "You're dismissed."

Skye left as Phil answered the phone.

"Coulson," he said.

"Heard you got your nose smashed in," May said.

"It's not that bad. The bleeding's nearly stopped."

"It should have stopped already."

"I've been busy. Did you call just for this?"

"Do you have an ice pack in your office?"

"Yes."

"Then use it." And she hung up. Phil bent under his desk and opened the small freezer he kept under there specifically for backup icepacks. He had already changed to using one of his hankies, and had put Simmons's aside to wash it later. He took a couple of painkillers, and then applied the ice to his nose. The cold sting quickly became a relief, and Phil lowered the back rest until he was nearly lying down. He tilted his head back, still keeping pressure on the injury, and he finally allowed a couple of tears to fall. They'd take Johnny to an airport so that he could fly back to New York, or Portland, or wherever he lived now, and that would be the end of it.

Half an hour passed, and his nose felt much better. There'd be a bit of bruising, and it was already a bit swollen. But the blood had stopped flowing, and the worst of it had been staved off with the icepack. Phil mentally thanked Agent May; the state he was in, he doubted whether he would've thought of it. With a few tissues and some condensation from the freezer, he cleaned the blood off his face.

He looked up when he heard a knock at the door, and immediately straightened his chair.

* * *

**I'm sure you can all guess who the guest is.**

**On the plus side, I spelt 'manoeuvred' right on the first go in this chapter. Hurrah!**


	5. Ending and Beginning

"Ending and Beginning"

"You've shaved," Phil said. He could've kicked himself for the asinine comment. Lucky for him, Johnny chuckled. It was the most sincere laughter he'd heard from Johnny in… God, it felt like years. Maybe it had been. Were things really that bad? How had he let them get that way?

"I'm also wearing your clothes," he said. And yes, Phil saw that he really was in one of Phil's shirts, a pair of trousers, belt, socks, and shoes. They weren't the same shoe size, but close enough, and it was safer than walking around barefoot. The shirt had short sleeves, and Johnny wasn't wearing a jacket, which meant that his arms were bare from mid-upper arm down. The muscles were more pronounced than before, and the trousers were closer in. Even the shirt hung looser, and Phil could remember a time when Johnny would wander around wearing only one of Phil's shirts.

"You've lost weight," he said.

"Guilt literally ate away at me," Johnny said, deadpan. Phil couldn't bring himself to laugh.

"You shouldn't have felt that way," he said. "It's my fault, and I'm sorry. I thought that by marrying you, we'd be able to spend more time together. It was supposed to be a guarantee. Instead, it made things worse, didn't it?"

"The only thing that gave me solace this last year was that we _were_ married," Johnny said. "I got to marry the love of my life, even if it was only for a handful of years. I was only going to stay away until you'd proven you could put me ahead of SHIELD, even just once. Then you couldn't have kept me away."

Phil pushed the model Lola on his desk, back and forth, while he stared at Johnny.

"Why would you give me that chance?" he asked.

"Because I love you."

Lola accidentally flipped when Phil's hand came down heavily. He clenched his hands into fists and closed his eyes.

"I've wanted to hear that… so long," he said, and he opened his eyes again to watch Johnny, who approached the desk slowly. "I know I could have called you anyway, but I didn't want you to come to me out of any sense of obligation. I really thought you didn't love me anymore, and recovery was going to take a long time. You'd have a fresh slate, and I wouldn't be a burden on anyone except paid medical professionals."

"You went through recovery and PT alone?"

"No. I had the medical staff, as I said."

Johnny rounded the desk, and rested his hip against it as he looked down at Phil. They were only inches away from each other. It wouldn't take much for Phil to slide his hand along and touch Johnny's thigh. He restrained himself.

"You wouldn't have been a burden," Johnny said. "Don't you think I would've preferred to know my husband was alive?"

"Apparently I'm not very good at thinking when it comes to you." Phil rested his head on his hands, and groaned. "I messed things up, and I keep making it worse."

"Hey, hey." Johnny began to stroke his hair, and Phil shuddered at the gentle touch. "It could've been worse. You could've been dead. Maybe not from that; maybe if I hadn't been there, and that guy torched you. You would've really died, and I wouldn't have known that you were alive for a whole year. That we could've had that year together."

"I love you," Phil said, nearly gasping the words. His heart was aching from the kindness Johnny was showing him. "But… our wedding vows… I swore in our vows that we'd always be together, and that I'd never let you down. And I broke those two promises. How could you ever forgive me for that?"

"I flirted with other people," Johnny said. "It's a bad habit, but I didn't exactly try to kick it. I thought it would get your attention. Instead, it just made you feel insecure, and that's the opposite of what I wanted."

"We should've learnt how to talk to each other."

Johnny laughed quietly. "Yeah, I guess we should, huh? Well, if it's upset you that much, we should just rewrite our vows." When he understood what Johnny was saying – or thought he understood – Phil raised his head. "You said that you died. I guess that means we're no longer married, so we'll have to make up for that."

Phil gazed at him. "If I could, I would redo it."

"Redo what?"

"This whole marriage. From the honeymoon on. I'd quit my job at SHIELD and become a nine-to-fiver, so that we could have regular hours together, and go on holidays, and maybe even get a pet. Or adopt a kid, if you wanted to. I… I know you mentioned it once, and I've seen you with Franklin. I think you'd be kind of an awesome dad." Phil stretched his hand up to caress Johnny's cheek the way he had earlier that day, when Johnny was still under an enchantment.

"Would you do that now?" Johnny whispered. "Would you give up being an agent, just for me?"

"For us," Phil said, and he stood up to stand flush against Johnny. "Anything. I'd do—"

"You'd give up the world for me, and it scares you," Johnny said. Phil stuttered to a stop. "Fitz and Simmons showed me the footage. Skye told them how to do it, while Ward was with May. Then I shaved and got changed, and came up to see whether you wanted to marry me again. You see, you're not the only one who died. Something inside of me, just here," he held Phil's other hand against his chest, "died when I heard what'd happened to you. I've never moved out of our home in Portland, just in case you came back, alive, as a ghost; it didn't matter. I said to myself that if I got you back, I'd be so grateful that I'd forgive everything."

"Will you forgive any of it?"

Johnny studied him, and nodded. Phil's legs gave out, and he sank back into his chair.

"That looks comfortable," Johnny said, gesturing to the chair. Phil laughed weakly, and he patted the arms.

"These even come up," he said. He looked up when, just a few seconds later, he heard the sound of a belt being unbuckled. Johnny's eyes had gone dark.

"Since we're going to get married again, I guess we should celebrate our engagement," he said, and he removed the belt. Then he unbuttoned and unzipped the trousers, and kicked off his shoes. "You know, you could at least get your trousers down to your knees."

Johnny, it turned out, wasn't wearing underwear. He stripped off the trousers, waited until Phil's trousers and underpants were down to his knees, and then knocked the arms of the chair up to the sides. Then he straddled Phil's lap, and began to grind against him. Phil grabbed his waist.

"I haven't got anything," he said.

"Gun oil. I got some from the weapons cupboard."

"How did you…? You know what? Never mind."

Johnny grinned as he bent to the side and grabbed his borrowed trousers. He fished out a small bottle of oil, and slicked Phil up. Then he coated his own fingers, reached behind, and began to stretch himself out. Meanwhile, Phil unbuttoned Johnny's shirt and began to suck bruises onto the skin of his collarbone. Johnny gasped, and Phil could feel the muscles of his arm as he continued to work himself open.

"Gonna have to be gentle with me," Johnny said, and he finally withdrew his hand and wiped it on a tissue from Phil's desk. "It's been over a year, you know."

Phil's eyes shone, and he kissed Johnny deeply, even as the younger man stood just enough to get himself into position. Then he moaned into Phil's mouth and he sank down. Johnny was so tight, even after he'd been stretching himself, and Phil had to stop him a few times, partly for Johnny's sake and partly for his. It'd been just as long for him, and there was no rush. His phone was on silent, the internal phone was off the hook, and everyone was busy. (They'd better be busy.) Johnny was so hot, hotter than usual, but Phil welcomed it. He needed the heat to stay grounded. He needed Johnny crushed against him, trading lazy kisses and grinding at a leisurely pace. He swallowed Johnny's whimpers, and gripped his sides tightly enough to cause bruises. The thought of leaving more marks nearly undid him, and he tore his mouth away from Johnny. He littered his fiancé's neck with love-bites, groaning into the skin as Johnny's inner muscles tightened around him. He tilted his hips until he hit the right place.

"Fuck, Phil!" Johnny clenched down hard, throwing his head back as he came. He shouted wordlessly, and swore again as Phil thrust one last time, and flooded Johnny's insides. Johnny collapsed against him, boneless and shaking. Phil eventually settled, and stroked Johnny's back as he held him close.

"Did I hurt you?" he asked gently.

"No."

"Let me know if I'm ever hurting you again."

"It'll only hurt if you leave me."

Phil continued his tender strokes, bringing Johnny down from the high, and turned the chair just enough to grab his phone. There were no messages, but he called Fury anyway.

"Good afternoon, sir," he said. He felt Johnny tense, but he didn't stop his ministrations. "So Agent May contacted you? Agent Ward? Good. How many vacation days do I have saved up?" While he waited for an answer he felt Johnny turn his head to look at him. "That many? Excellent. I'm going to use them to fix my marriage. Well, to be more accurate, get married again and go on a second honeymoon. I won't be contactable in that time, except through Susan Richards. Oh. Very well. Good day, director."

"Problem?" Johnny asked in a small voice. Phil sighed.

"He said my ass is fired if I don't send a wedding snapshot. And not to come back until I've learnt better time management skills."

Johnny chuckled, and the sound vibrated through them where they still connected. Phil hissed at the over-stimulation, but he stopped Johnny from trying to extricate himself.

"We should get cleaned up," Johnny said.

"We will. But first, I think we should work out where we're going for our honeymoon. Which would you prefer: beach or snow?"

Johnny bent over to kiss him, just as someone burst in the door.

"Oh!" It was Simmons, and she immediately covered her eyes. "Right. We were worried about… you know, the shouting… and… Well."

"Simmons, get the hell out of my office."

"Yes, sir!" she squeaked, and she disappeared out the door. Johnny was shaking with laughter, and Phil spanked him half-heartedly.

"If that's you trying to be a male dominatrix, don't give up your day job," Johnny said.

"But I _will_ be giving up my day job," Phil said, and he tilted Johnny's chin up for another kiss. "Remember?"

"Hmm." Johnny's gaze roamed all over his face. "How does that make you feel? Does it hurt?"

"Not much," Phil said. He kissed Johnny's nose, making the man nearly go cross-eyed as he continued to watch. "I feel… light. Thinking about being with you. I don't mind. I won't miss it as much as I'd miss you."

"But you'd miss it anyway?"

"…Johnny, I've worked for SHIELD for a long time. It was all I had before you. The difference is that you're a lot more important to me now, just as you should've been all along. So yeah, I'll miss it. But you're my reward." He began to kiss Johnny all over again, not letting up until they ran out of breath.

"Don't give it up," Johnny said. "You do good work, Phil. Just… do a bit less of it. Or I could join." He chewed his lower lip, and Phil listened carefully. "If you think SHIELD would take me."

"In a heartbeat," Phil said. "Or have you forgotten that's why we met in the first place?"

"And could I work here?"

Phil smiled. "We could use a second pilot, I'm sure. Someone who's good at extreme sports would be a bonus. Know anyone?"

"I'm sure I could think of someone for the job. Would sleeping with your boss be allowed?"

"Oh, I'd insist on it."

"Well, then. I guess I'd better accept."

"At least you're a stray I can trust." Phil frowned. Johnny nuzzled the lines until they eased up.

"You can tell me all about it later," he said. "Right now, I really think we need to wash up."

"This is going to be fun," Phil muttered as Johnny pulled away, his release smeared all over Phil's shirt.

"Oh, I think they're just gonna respect you even more now," Johnny said, and he smirked as he eased to a standing position. He only winced once, and then rested against the edge of the desk. Phil watched his own release trickling down Johnny's thighs, and felt incredibly smug. "C'mon. Join me in the shower."

* * *

**Wasn't sure how to finish this off. I hate when that happens. We'll just assume that Johnny fretted over Phil's nose later on, and leave them to it.**

**So, I hope you enjoyed this part-angst, part-fluff, part-smut, light-on-plot fic. It combined a couple of ideas I'd had. Originally, Johnny had been planning to propose to Phil, and he left because Phil missed their dinner due to work. Then I decided that making them already married added a whole new level of whatsit. I also loved the idea of Johnny Storm suddenly appearing and taking on the fire from Chan and saving Phil. So that worked its way in.**

**You're welcome.**

**Please review!**


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